Sparrow
by Time Lady 802379
Summary: Who actually knows how many perils our world poses to those of feather and wing? Well, now we have some idea, if not a very good one. The world through the eyes of a sparrow. Yes it IS relivant to the Whoniverse!
1. Fly to the Sky

**Just a hint here: I managed to think of the idea, plot, any twists AND jokes in this fic in 5 minutes flat, so that should give you an idea as to the quality and depth of this piece.**

**Dedicated to you, all my lovely, lovely readers, without whom, I would be a raving lunatic that no-one listened to. Oh wait... I am... Never mind me!**

**BEWARE: COMPLETELY UN BETA'D. (Please do not smite me, O Supreme Dark Lord Noofle)**

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An explosion.

That had been the first thing he'd seen. Huge red and white flames leapt at him. His body had been screaming in pain, protesting his every movement. Everywhere he'd turned there had been fire, blocking all escape routes as if it were a living thing. A hunter.

But then a light had appeared, tall and large, rectangular. What did the humans call it? A Door? Yes, a Door. A Door had opened, leading out into the sky and the wind. If there was one thing he knew, it was that the sky was his friend. He didn't know how or why he knew, he just did.

And so, he had escaped, his body, mind and soul screaming in agony. He fled from the hungry fire to the safety and comfort of the bright sky.

Voices had called from behind him, filled with pain and anger and fear, as he had emerged from the smoke-filled room and into the sunlight. But he hadn't listened to them. His body was weak and broken, the fire was hungry, and he was terrified. Terrified of the voices, of the fire, and of the dark human place.

He knew he had to get out if he was to survive.

He hadn't even looked back as he had fled to the open sky.

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**I know, I know, another shortie. But here's the second chapter to make up for it, OK?**

**Reviewer's get bananas!**


	2. Caged

**Does anyone actually READ A/N's?**

**BEWARE: STILL UNBETA'D!**

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He shook his head vigorously, throwing in the compulsory head bobbing measure, trying to shake the terrifying memory. The explosion was the first thing he remembered, though he didn't know why. He had a feeling that there was a life before the sky, a life with danger and... running? Why did he have this feeling? It made no sense...

But he couldn't dwell on that now, food needed to be gathered for his chicks; they would be waiting for him. He had a swarm of crickets in his sights, and they did look so tasty. So very tempting. Perched where he was, on the rim of some human's gutter, he could just see a group of the little bugs that would surely last him through three or four feeds, if not more. The morning was young, chilly, and a thin, wet mist hugged the ground, though his keen eyes picked out the small shapes of his food.

Spreading his still singed wings, he launched himself of the roof and swooped, plummeting to the concrete ground below. When he was close enough, he opened his wings to slow enough and plucked the cricket from the ground with his sharp beak. It was dead instantly. In fact, if he hadn't known better, he would've said that it had been dead _long before_. Impossible. Never mind.

He swallowed it animatedly, with much head bobbing. It was indeed, very tasty. Now that he looked, he could see that there was a trail of crickets leading away from him and round behind a wall. He cocked his head to the side, contemplating. It seemed too easy. Normally he had to chase his food before he got to eat, yet here it was, just waiting for him.

Then he remembered his chicks, and that made up his mind. He hopped forwards to the next meal, finishing it off and moving on again.

As he polished off the next bug he looked up sharply. He'd heard something. A quiet sound, yet somehow sharp, something a human would do, a small "Yes!". But there were no humans around. At least, he couldn't see any, only a trail of bugs leading round a blind corner. Now that he thought about it, he found that it was too quiet. He would've expected competition for a feed like this, yet here he was, completely alone. He was also getting paranoid, so he shook his head again, expelling the worrying thoughts. The sound probably came from one if their nests; it was still early, no-one would be awake yet.

So he returned to his food, now listening vigilantly. Though as he carried on, the sound did not repeat, so gradually, he focused on eating. He was so focused that he didn't even realise that he had turned the corner and was nearing the trail's end. He saw only the _huge_ pile of crickets at the end of the line. Now surely that was simply too tempting for anyone to resist?

The excitement bubbled over, and he ignored the little door as he flew eagerly through, as well as the bars that surrounded him as he landed beside his prize. He was just reaching for the seventh (or was it the eighth?) bug, when it happened.

The little door he had flown through closed with a tiny clang, and large fingers closed the catch. He spun around, shooting towards the door and grabbing hold of the bars with his talons and flapping furiously, desperately trying to get it open.

But it wouldn't budge.

As the cage began to lift he began to jump from one side of the rounded cage to the other, grabbing hold of bars for a fraction of a second before jumping to the opposite side. But it didn't help him. The next thing he saw was a huge pair of eyes and white teeth. He began to call for help, tweeting loudly and quickly. Not that it made any difference.

"Boy, Doc, and _you_ tell _us_ not to wander off?" a loud voice chuckled.

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**Dun dun DUH! Tell me what you think?**

**And, be honest, who was actually expecting that? Just please be kind and don't make me feel TOO predictable...**

**Reviewer's get crickets! (Lucky you...) Surprised you there, didn't I, eh?**


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